It was Monday morning at 6:00 a.m., 2 hours from finishing a fulfilling but exhausting 2-week rotation as the attending on our busy inpatient palliative care service. I got into the shower to splash myself awake, grateful that my call was ending, eager to spend more time with my husband and two young children. I heard the pager vibrating on the counter and thought, “You've got to be kidding. Another ED admission?”

While I was drying off, the pager went off again. “URGENT, CALL ASAP.” It was from the palliative care unit, and I knew whom this must be about: a tall, lanky, and unfailingly gracious young man who was dying of metastatic cancer far before his time.